Ruminations on Spirituality, Recovery and Creativity

Life’s Poetry

April is National Poetry Month. Typically, I celebrate by sharing poetry with my blog followers. If ambitious enough, I will be posting a new poem each day for the remainder of April. Below you will find a poem by Tosha Michelle. I discovered the wonderful, brilliant, persuasive poetry of Tosha when she first commented on one of my poems. I started following her blog immediately. I am sure you will be swept up by the imagery of “Life’s Poetry.”

I sit. Heart in hand. I create. Some of you may turn away from the blood. The red spilling over. It’s OK if you do.

Sometimes it scares me too, but still I hold it. Palms out. I’m giving you what frightens me. This is me saying, yes, I’m still here.

I give you my less than moments, my insecurities, my madness, my ideas about life and love, my shrine of longing.

My heart slipping from my hands, falling past my knees to the floor.

Falling toward your shadow I hope you will pick it up. Feel the hopeful beat that wars with my still soul and chaotic mind. I give you my wounds.

We connect through our pain, my friend, my reader. Through the hornets in our coffee cups. Our syllables of what we can’t forget.

As we suffer together, fear becomes less. Our hearts beat stronger. Place them on the dashboard like a plastic Jesus.

It’s doesn’t matter if they leak on the floorboard. It only matters that we travel on, even if we’ve misplaced the map, even if our sanity becomes displaced, even if we drive down a reckless road on a moonless night.

Understand, if we want heaven and angels, sometimes we have to ride around with our demons.

Understand, sometimes, darkness is the heart of life, of beauty, of art.